feeling
by DeannaReadX
Summary: I had just taken the very last shred of humanity inside me and burned it in a raging fire, a fire that was just making me colder every minute.


I felt it. For the first time in my life, I felt it. Watching the spark in his eyes stormy grey eyes go out and his body falling... he was gone; but how could he have been? I had only stunned him! No, He would come back, this was our game and he hadn't finished it; Sirius Black always finished a game.

Right from the moment he came out in that grubby little delivery room, I knew, right there and then, this was it. I had always known that there would have to be a climax... something had to happen in the end.

But the sudden unexpected pain in my chest was crippling my mashed up brain and I felt a dreamy trance coming over my body, freezing me to the spot. I knew I only had seconds to let myself linger in the moment, to allow myself to feel properly.

It was the boy's call that woke me from my state of shock, the simple cry of his name, the same cry that was echoing loudly inside my fucked up head. But I was trained not to react, this was still part of the game and I was still expected to play. I had been taught to act, to be a brilliant liar and an even better bitch. Some could call me the devil I suppose but they'd be wrong. They'd all be very wrong.

I wasn't the devil, there was another. Someone who existed on the planet who was more twisted and evil than me, someone who wouldn't have felt a thing and someone who laughed when they had killed their own flesh and blood. Voldemort.

And I could feel it now, not emotionally, just physically; even I know both are completely different things. But I felt the burning on my right arm as the Potter boy thrashed in Remus's arms, trying desperately to get to his fallen godfather. I was reminded again that I was still required to play and to kill more people and to enjoy it. The burning sensation prickled again, more painful than before and I knew he was becoming impatient.

I steadied my shaking hands so that I was gripping my wand so tightly I could feel the skin breaking and the warm liquid covering the knobbly handle. I knew that the next few seconds had to count; I knew that I had to make the whole thing worth it. So I did what I do best; I laughed.

That's all it took and I soon found it was genuine because all my pain was suddenly flowing through into a new emotion... pure, ruthless, relentless and unhinged hilarity. The Potter boy had tears on his face, his whole picture covered in anger and bone chilling pain.

"YOU!" I heard him yell as his voice cracked from the strain and loathing. I couldn't help it; I knew that if I was going to keep my heart beating, I would have to put this on... I would have to put this on good.

"You gonna catch me?" I said, feeling my madness being released again and adrenaline coursed through my veins but I refused to wince when my increasingly sweaty forearm boiled underneath the black leather of my corseted dress. I turned and ran out the door, knowing Potter would follow me, even wanting him to. And part of me broke, like a small part of my heart had been sliced open and I was bleeding. But I was Bellatrix Black and this was who I was, I was a disgusting, filthy, brilliantly skilled witch who enjoyed the screams of people below her; Mudbloods.

I pushed stealthily through the door into a messy big, circular hall and I could see the gathering of magical energy that he was calling me to, but all of a sudden, I felt a very small, barely there, twitch of pain in my spine.

It hit a sensitive spot that made my body fly forwards and I just managed to stop my head from hitting the floor. I immediately clambered onto my back, feeling the blood in my palms leaking out into the cold marble flooring.

"You going to kill me? He he he! You have to mean it Potty, you have to really mean it" I jeered still keeping expertly in character despite the throbbing numbness gripping its long bony fingers around my black heart.

"CRUCIO" the fifteen year old screamed and I felt it more this time, I was grateful for the pain, it was making me angrier and that is where I got my strength from. I had been trained for a long time to use my anger and hate to my own advantage, taught by my master.

"HARRY MOVE!" an old man's voice echoed furiously around the hall and I saw the water in the fountain rippling from the decibels and emotion in this man's voice. I knew Potter wouldn't deny a direct order from Dumbledore and I grinned evilly as a familiar sense of power and domination fill my lungs; He was here. I heaved myself ungracefully to my feet and backed off as though to allow my master centre stage. It was then that I saw him give me the look, the look that said 'bugger off'.

I simply nodded curtly and smiled "good luck master" I bowed low, sliding myself into the nearest fireplace and left this place. The one place that held pain for me, not even my heart held that now because I had just taken the very last shred of humanity inside me and burned it in a raging fire, a fire that was just making me colder every minute. I had murdered my nephew, the most amazing, brilliant man I had ever met and now... now it was killing _me_.


End file.
